campfire

Sorry, no can do. It’s kind of close in here, if you hadn’t noticed.

I already got it going. (if fire is lit)

For sleep

All right, I could do with some shuteye.

Gomorrah

Woohoo! I must’ve died and gone to heaven!

The karate line didn’t sound right to me.

I prefer melee combat.
So you like getting your hands dirty. The only question is, are you a surgeon, or a butcher?
But I guess it doesn’t matter. Both know how to spill the blood.

this set should come after some travel, probably in Vegas for the demo

I never asked you, where are you from originally?
Neither here nor there, my friend. Unless by “there” you’re talking about the Republic of New California.

What brought you all the way out here?
Well, most people say, if you want to make your fortune, “Go west young man.” Well, if I went west, I’d walk right into the fucking ocean.
So I went east. Then north. Then who the fuck knows. Pretty soon you’re just going in circles, until the day you go six feet down.

You could go a thousand feet up. You know, to heaven.
No buckaroo, I reckon that’s one place I’ll never be.
I hate to break it to you, but after the shit we’ve done, we’ll be playing cards with the devil until the shit freezes over.

I hear you. We’re all headed to the same place. Just taking different routes.
That’s the thing. We know that karma bill’s coming. Only thing different is how we pay it.
But rest assured, whether it’s out here or down there, no bad deed will go unpunished.

I thought going in circles was your thing.
That it is. Doesn’t matter if you’re going in or out, up or down, it’s all one big conga line, and you’re just trying your darndest not to step out of it.

California’s a long fucking way from here.
It is, and it isn’t. No matter where you go, you see the same shit. Walk the same path.
Don’t matter if you’re a man in California or a bug on a windshield. Life will hit you where it hurts.

When it’s your time, how do you want to go?
You mean besides death by orgasm? Shit, to be honest, I don’t know.
This world, man…these wastes…this all here is some biblical shit. The nukes, that was our original sin. And maybe we’re all redeemers, just trying to set things right.
Is it too late for us? Yeah, probably. But maybe hundreds of years from now, mankind will finally be in the black.
So to answer your question, it doesn’t matter how I go. I just hope that when my time comes, I can face the tax man, and tell him I’ve paid my share.

Hellos/Idles

Some say you shouldn’t do chems first thing in the morning. You know what I say? Fuck those people.

What do you feel like getting for breakfast? I guess we could split this can of beans I found. Fair warning though. It was open when I found it.

Ever notice if you spell “dick” backwards, it basically spells “Kid?”
Like I said the day we met, one goes in, one comes out. Circle of life.

Man, I’ve seen flat tires with more life than this guy. Makes me depressed just looking at him.

Had a dream the other day. We were near this river of cola, watching a bunch of miners pan for caps.
Don’t know what it means, but it did make me thirsty.

(couldn’t think of anything better than the old saying, feel free to make original)
I know this girl’s just trying to help, but shit…she’s about as useless as tits on a bull.

Can’t say I enjoy the city. There’s just too much concrete. Any cowboy worth his shit prefers an open range.

It’s a fucking sea of junk out here, with lots of places to hide. Better watch your step, or something might drag you under.

I don’t know how you do things out here, but back west, when it comes to shit, we don’t talk it or take it. Remember that, and you’ll be just fine.

I don’t know much about the Commonwealth, but I do know something about the common man. He’ll fuck you if you let him.

Shit man, lot of clouds on this side of the world. Back west, you know what we call them fuckers? Endangered.

Trade

Sure, and throw in pack of ciggies if you got ’em. Nothing like a smoke after a meal.

(Big Six is 1920s slang for six cylinder car)
All right. But I ain’t exactly built like a Big Six. Sure, I got chem strength, but that shit goes quick.

All right. And here, have some mentats. Shit makes you smart.

What’s on your mind?
You mind if we slow down for a sec? I think I need take five. Make that twenty.
In fact, I might just drop dead right here.

You okay? What’s wrong?
Agh, it’s just I’m dealing with half a lung. Took a bullet in my chest about five years back. That’s another reason I quit being courier.
Can’t go a couple miles without getting winded.

Already? We’ve barely moved.
It’s not about distance, really. You know how some people got a trick knee? Well, I got a trick lung.
Got a bullet wedged in there three inches deep. Every now and then it decides to make a fuss.

Well, try not to evacuate yourself when you do.
Roger that, bucko. If I go down, I’ll be sure to keep my asshole clenched.
Then again, this bullet in my chest – it’s been trying to kill me for years, and hasn’t done it yet.

You’ve got a bullet lodged in your chest?
Yeah, funny story behind it too.
See, as a courier, you got to make a lot of raw deals just to survive. Sometimes I paid in caps, other times I paid in blood.
But this was different. Thing is, the guy who owns this bullet, he wasn’t trying to shoot it. He was trying to smuggle it.

What do you mean, he was trying to smuggle it?
A couple of gangs were calling a truce.
They were gonna meet in this old war museum. Not a single gun in the whole place, save for the one in the display case.
Of course, guns like that don’t come with any bullets. So this chief, he gets an idea to smuggle one inside a courier.

for these, they should all route back to each other so that you can ask all 3 questions as well as the “What was the plan” which moves it forward.

What did you get in exchange?
A free ride through his part of the wastes. Was a pretty good deal, seeing as he’d be in charge of most of it.

How did you meet this raider chief?
We shared the same dealer. I mean shit, how else do people know each other?

What kind of gun was it?
Fuck if I know. But I figured it was good enough to do the job. You don’t get in a museum without killing someone famous.

What was the plan?
I was supposed to show up in the middle of the meeting, like it was part of my route.
The idea was to take me aside and start working me over, and cut the bullet out in the process.
Only it sank in there pretty good, and the chief, he pushed it down further till it popped right into my lung.
In the end, I don’t know what he pulled out, but I’ll tell you this. It wasn’t a bullet.

What happened then?
Pretty much what you’d expect. The raider chief grabs this dusty old pistol and fires.
When the shot doesn’t do anything, the two chiefs end up trying to beat the shit out of each other. That’s when I managed to crawl out the back.
Long story short, now I got a bullet in my chest, and two raider gangs who want me dead.

More Hellos/Idles

Fighting with you really gets the blood pumping. Been a long time since my heart felt anything besides chems and cholesterol.

When you’re in a gun fight, it’s never about who’s right. It’s about who’s left.

Shit, we’re running low on ammo. If you gave me a dollar for every bullet we got, I’d have twenty-five cents.

Fuck, this place is crawling with ghouls. If it wasn’t for bad luck, we woudn’t have any luck at all.

This reminds me of a place back west. One of those old banjo towns where you can’t tell the moonshine from the motor oil.
Only the people there had bald heads and shaggy beards, like their faces were upside down.

Is something wrong? You look like you just took your temperature. With a cactus.

If loving chems is wrong, then I don’t wanna be right.
Hell, I’ll eat crow for breakfast, and my words for lunch.
I’ll get off on the wrong foot to back the wrong horse while it barks up the wrong tree.
I’ll be just about the wrongest man on the planet, if you’ll do me the honor of passing that needle.

Sometimes I think I ought to settle down. Find myself a damsel, a real belle of the ball, and raise a family.
That’s the American ideal. A wife, two kids, a white picket fence, and of course, land mines. To you know, keep out the raiders.
But life ain’t a billboard, bucko. That’s cause the real land mines…they’re inside the house.

Ever tell a joke to a midget? It usually goes over their heads.

I think I’m wasted. But I’ll need another shot to confirm.

With karma, you deserve what you get, but you don’t always get what you deserve.

In life, you’re always gonna remember the hard times. They’re gonna stick to you like rads on a ghoul.
And that’s a good thing. ‘Cause when it comes to hard times, the worst thing you can do is forget ’em.

You wanna know how I keep my gun hand steady? It’s right in the name.

this is for the potential end game, may need to be tweaked depending on whatever the hell it is

Are you ready for the fight?
Yeah, bucko. Been waiting all my life for a chance like this.

Why do you say that?
Well, I’ve said it before, but I feel like every man, ghoul, and mutant on this planet is guilty of something.
Maybe we inherited some of these sins, but the fact of the matter is, we’re all doing time.
And if the wastes are the jail, then karma’s the bail. This is our chance, one way or the other, to earn our way home.

Then let’s collect this karma payload before someone else does.
You took the words right out of my mouth. Might want to wash your hands though, considering the source.

I don’t need the karma. I’m doing this because it’s right.
You only say that because you got it. But everyone needs karma my friend. If people didn’t need it, the world would be dark and ugly place.

This city is my home. I’m just doing what I can to keep it safe.
That’s what I mean. The only difference between is a prison and a home is the wall ain’t got a door.
What we’re doing is tearing that shit down. The walls and the roof, so the inmates can live free.

And if we kill a couple hundred assholes on the way, then all the better.
That’s right, bucko. We’re gonna have to make a lot of babies for all the men we’re gonna kill. Still, I figure we’re both up to the task.

Either way, this is shaping up to be one hell of a battle. Glad I could be part of it.

Dying, maybe coughing up blood

Sorry kiddo…but it looks like you’ll be going on without me.

Get up soldier. You’ve still got some fight left.
No can do. Like I said the day we met…one goes in, one goes out. And we’ve….ungh…fucked with the math long enough.
Back then, I decided to stay. But now…shit…it really is time for me to leave.

I figured. To be honest, I’m surprised you made it this far.
Yup, we’ve been on….borrowed time since the day we met. One goes in, one goes out. That’s how it should’ve been. That’s how it’s gonna be.

Hold on, I’ve got a medkit here somewhere!
Thanks partner, but it….won’t do any good. Fact is, we’ve been on borrowed time…since the day we met.
One goes in, one goes out, remember? Seems like just yesterday.

No…what happened? Where are you hit?
Does it matter? Reaper’s…calling collect. Doesn’t make a difference where he got the number.
It’s like I told you the day we met. Two can’t stay. One goes in…one goes out. That’s just the way it is.

(Coughing) Do me…do me one last favor though, okay? Kill every last one of those motherfuckers. Give ’em hell, so they know where to find me.
And when I’m down in the eighth circle…killing these bastards a second time, maybe I’ll get promoted.
Maybe…I’ll get to meet that great chief in the sky, and tell him…what a fucking asshole he’s been.